“That must be recent news.” I stepped out from behind Nyla. “I thought there hadn’t been trouble for months. Everyone thought the gang had moved on to other parts of Kuralan.”
“Perhaps they did. But they’re back on the roads near the capital again now.” Navid turned to his father. “Perhaps I could get out of today’s negotiations, after all. I could accompany you myself, at least until we hear the gang has—”
“Absolutely not!” Nyla glared at him. “You will not bring this family into disrepute by shirking your responsibilities to your master. Especially not when he does you honor by including you in such important proceedings.”
“Certainly you must listen to the wise words of your aunt.” Ali’s brow creased for the first time since his arrival. “I can assure you I will do well enough with Zaria.”
“Perhaps you would do better on your own.” Navid’s skeptical gaze moved back to me.
“Really, Navid!” I kept my tone stern, although my eyes laughed at him. “I promise my presence will not be a detriment to your father.”
Ali chuckled. “No, indeed! Zaria has accompanied me often enough. She and I will deal well together, I have no doubt.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Navid stopped, shaking his head in frustration.
“I see,” I said gravely. “In that case, let me reassure you. Despite my small stature and general lack of bulk, I will endeavor to bring your father back in one piece, no matter what cutthroat villains we and the donkeys may encounter.”
“Zaria!” Navid groaned. “That’s not what I meant either, and you know it!”
A chuckle slipped out, earning me a reproachful glare from Nyla. My casual, joking manner was one of the things she most deplored in me—declaring it irreverent and disrespectful. But even after more than three years as a servant, I hadn’t managed to fully curb my old nature.
“Thieves will not be interested in our load of firewood,” Ali said comfortably. “You may go in peace, son.”
“No, indeed they will not.” Nyla looked down her nose at Navid. “If you do not fear to send your father out into the woods alone, you certainly need not fear on behalf of one of my servants.”
Navid’s lip curled slightly at the disparaging way she said servant, but he remained silent. He had learned long ago that he wouldn’t be the one punished if he spoke out in our defense.
I was elated, however. An afternoon in the forest was far better than I had envisaged for the day. Assuring Ali I would only be gone for a moment, I ran back inside to change my ankle-length outer robe for one of a thicker material. It was always cooler beneath the trees, and we were starting late, so we would be lucky to make it back before sunset took much of the day’s warmth with it.
Nyla met me at the mansion’s door on my return. “Enjoy the donkeys, Zaria.” She sniffed disdainfully. “It’s all you’ve turned out to be good for.”
With a swish, she turned, the heavy brocade of her much more elaborate robe brushing the ground as she sauntered down the hallway. I shook my head and dashed outside to join Ali by the outer gate.
Nyla would never forget I had been recommended for a place in her household by one of the palace viziers. She had given me a position only because she thought I would provide an ongoing connection to the palace—an assumption that had turned out to be false. I was fairly certain she kept me all this time later because she enjoyed having someone to punish for her disappointment. Other servants had a habit of resigning after too much exposure to her ill tempers.
“Ah, there you are.” Ali smiled and handed me two of the leads.
I took them, giving a soft greeting to the donkeys. They brayed at me in what I was convinced was a friendly manner, coming easily when I gave the two ropes a gentle tug.
As we walked through the streets of the city, I watched Ali. He called friendly greetings to many of the people we passed, a picture of amiable contentment.
Sometimes I marveled that such a man could have produced Navid. I wasn’t sure if Ali truly lacked his son’s intelligence and perception, or if those qualities were simply masked by his good nature and the fact he most definitely lacked his son’s drive for success.
No one of any sense could doubt his gentle heart, however. His donkeys were evidence enough of that. I had never in my life seen such amiable members of their kind—and since they had been raised from birth by Ali himself, I could only assume they mimicked their master’s nature.
When we passed out through the open gate and stepped off the road into the trees, I let out a soft breath. I loved the hum of the dusty city, but this sort of peace could only be achieved when surrounded by green, growing things.
“You needn’t be concerned,” Ali said, misreading my sigh. “I’m quite sure no thieves would be interested in my girls, even when we have filled their baskets with firewood.” He patted the head of the closest donkey with affection.
Unlike his brother and sister-in-law, he appeared to have no shame in the poverty that drove him to spend his days pursuing such meager riches as firewood. He made no apology for it but began to talk in a rambling manner, making infrequent pauses that required only the briefest of acknowledgments from me.
I smiled to myself as I listened. Ali’s amiable animals could easily be secured in a string and led by one person. But after my first excursion into the forest, I had worked out that Ali’s need for assistance had more to do with his desire for company than any more practical requirement.
We wandered for some time before Ali stopped and began to unload the donkeys. He had found a new location since my last time accompanying him, distinctive due to the unusually round shape of the clearing and a large rocky section of ground on one side. It provided plenty of room for the donkeys to graze without moving out of sight, and Ali soon settled into his work, chopping large branches to fit inside the baskets.
Officially, I was tasked with collecting smaller branches to fit around the larger ones. But Ali never commented on my gathering speed, so I wandered around the clearing first. When I caught sight of the large bush to one side of the rocky section of ground, however, I decided it was time to head out among the trees.
I had once loved bushes like that—the deceptively thick growth hiding the perfect space in the middle for children to play. But my memories of such adventures had soured with the years, and I had no interest in dwelling on them.